


"Defining Love"

by Savageseraph



Category: Crimson Peak - Fandom
Genre: Emotional Baggage, F/M, Falling In Love, Lies, Love, Madness, Repression, Truth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 14:29:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5337518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savageseraph/pseuds/Savageseraph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas questions what he knows and how he defines love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Defining Love"

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://tigriswolf.livejournal.com/profile)[tigriswolf](http://tigriswolf.livejournal.com/)’s “I don’t love you” truth-and-lies prompt yesterday at [](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/profile)[comment_fic](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/).

Title: "Defining Love"  
Characters: Thomas Sharpe/Lucille Sharpe, Thomas Sharpe/Edith Cushing  
Fandom: Crimson Peak  
Author: Barbara [](http://savageseraph.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://savageseraph.livejournal.com/)**savageseraph**  
Rating: R  
Disclaimer: I don’t pretend to own the characters or the world. I just amuse themselves with them for fun, not profit.  
Summary: Thomas questions what he knows and how he defines love.  
Notes: Written for [](http://tigriswolf.livejournal.com/profile)[**tigriswolf**](http://tigriswolf.livejournal.com/) ’s “I don’t love you” truth-and-lies prompt yesterday at [](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/profile)[**comment_fic**](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/).

 

Thomas Sharpe sat in front of the hearth in the main hall pretending to read a book about mechanics, but his thoughts kept wandering from the text. Across the room, Lucille played piano. Even lost in her music, Lucille’s back stayed ramrod-straight as if she was afraid of being criticized for her posture slipping. His gaze travelled up her back and over the curves her garments highlighted to the back of her neck and its soft skin to the dark hair that his fingers always itched to free from her severe braids.

Lucille’s hair was styled as their mother favored it, so Thomas wondered at his sister adopting the look. His gaze flicked to the portrait of their mother that hung over the fire. There was no denying she and Lucille both had a forbidding demeanor, a dominating presence. Both were capable of politeness but lacked the warmth necessary to charm. Both had dark eyes that were familiar with scorn, smiles that were familiar with cruelty.

_I didn’t love you, Mother._

Thomas didn’t think his mother would be bothered by this. After all, she didn’t love him. As a child, Thomas wanted to have parents he could love. He daydreamed about it, then retreated into his drawings and inventions. He knew how things were supposed to work in families, and he knew he’d never have that love.

Until Lucille gave it to him.

Lucille loved him. She took care of him, encouraged him. She was his strength. She taught him the ways of passion and of control, of madness and murder. She was all he wanted and all he’d known.

Until Edith came into his life.

Edith took his ring, his proposal. _His heart._ Now, when he slipped away into Lucille’s arms, Lucille’s bed, he found himself biting back Edith’s name when he was aching with desire. And that was dangerous.

What Thomas felt for Edith was dangerous for them both. If he loved Edith, if he accepted love was warm and selfless and giving, if it left you feeling whole and hopeful, if it made you look forward to the next hour, the next day, with excitement and delight, then what he felt for his sister wasn’t love. It was love’s desperate, twisted twin.

_I don’t love you, Lucille._


End file.
